


Jaime & Brienne: A Sestina

by Miss_M



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Sestina, poem, verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_M/pseuds/Miss_M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sestina is a verse form invented by medieval French troubadours, who raised verse-making to acrobatic levels. </p><p>Singers spin tales of such high honor,<br/>It soars with the clouds, up in the blue,<br/>While down below, those of flesh and blood<br/>Clash. Knaves, little kings, a flawed knight:<br/>Creatures that could only impress a girl<br/>Too young and pure to have seen much of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jaime & Brienne: A Sestina

**Author's Note:**

> The sestina was invented by medieval French troubadours, who raised verse-making to acrobatic levels. It is a fixed verse form consisting of six stanzas of six lines each, with a three-line final stanza. Instead of rhyme, rhythm within the poem is achieved by rotating the same six words at the end of the lines in each of the six stanzas, so that the order of the words varies in every stanza. The final, three-line stanza also contains all six of these words. There are also rules about the number of syllables per verse and the pattern for final-word variation. 
> 
> I’d been itching to try my hand at some formal verse-writing (though I ended up ignoring the rules about the meter and the final-word pattern). I’d also been thinking about J/B, and about the motifs that recur whenever they get together in canon and fandom.
> 
> This piece hints at certain canon events, so proceed carefully if you want to remain completely unspoiled. I own nothing.

Singers spin tales of such high honor,  
It soars with the clouds, up in the blue,  
While down below, those of flesh and blood  
Clash. Knaves, little kings, a flawed knight:  
Creatures that could only impress a girl  
Too young and pure to have seen much of life.

She strives. Every word from the girl  
Is armored in it, leaden, her honor  
Like the chain a maester drags through life,  
Her steel so keen it shines almost blue,  
Still untainted, no smelly guts or steaming blood  
To mar her vision: to be a true knight.

Even when she sees it, knows it, the blood  
That runs through everything, this girl  
Stands tall. She has no choice. A knight  
Can neither break nor bow, her honor  
All she has in common with his kind. Life  
Has turned her heart, like her eyes, blue. 

He thinks himself wiser than she, his entire life  
Woven through by acts red with blood.  
Eyes cannot cut him, be they green or blue,  
So why should he care about the girl  
Or what she thinks, when singer, knave and knight  
Know it’s just fool’s gold, his honor.

It’s too much. To watch her eyes, open, blue,  
Grow tainted and cloudy by every knight  
Who fails to live up to her hopes. The girl  
Is there, unbidden, reluctant, when his life  
Nearly drains like water, tells him his honor  
Is worth more than this, his pain and blood.

Together, maybe, they make one whole knight.  
He never expected much from life,  
Lets her carry them, his sword and his honor.  
Though the skies rain and rivers run with blood,  
He can just about see it: hope, clean and blue,  
Tempered as steel. His word lifts up the girl. 

Her eyes whole and blue, the scarred girl;  
Just a breath of honor, the tarnished knight.  
They strive for life, while their world drowns in blood.


End file.
